Gears

Chapter One: The Aviator

"Oi!"

I looked up from my book just in time to see one of the intoxicated patrons of The Clockwork Dragon shoving a fat old drunkard violently against his fellow inebriants, roaring in anger. As usual, the inn-stroke-tavern was crowded with common-folk of all kinds, all of which who had made their way to the most popular lower-class leisure spot in Bremming to spend their hard-earned pittance on drinking away their troubles. I watched with a raised eyebrow, amused, as the round man started towards his attacker with intent, his bald head glistening with sweat.

"Oi yourself!" he spat back, shoving against his rather tall opponent as the air around them hummed with energy. Brawls weren't unusual for this place, and no-one else took much notice of the pair, everyone else buried deep in their cups and going about their own noisy business. "Why'd you push me, you tosser?"

"Not clever," I remarked calmly under my breath, looking on with no particular interest as the large bearded dockworker barely budged from his efforts. He snarled menacingly and stepped towards the bald chap, watching the little guy visibly pale as he withdrew from his bear-like form. "You drank my liquor," He growled, and the bald chap seemed to shrink as he closed the gap between them. "I left it on the table, righ' there," he pointed at the small table that lie innocently between the two of them, "and when I done looked back after on'y a momen' it weren' there no more." His voice was rough and hard, much like the meaty hands he clenched into fists at his sides. After a moment's internal debate the bald drunkard seemed to brace himself and drew himself to his full height, and even so barely reaching the dockworker's chest. "Prove it!"

I sighed to myself and turned my gaze to my book again as the dockworker lifted the bald chap by the collar and threw him single-handedly halfway across the floor. The sound of splintering wood told me he had landed on top of one of the dozen oak tables that were scattered across the inn's ground floor. Chaos erupted around me as a full on brawl began, many of the drunken regulars taking advantage of the sudden commotion by lashing out at anyone closest to them.

The door on the opposing side of the room swung open and a frazzled-looking Jed stomped out in a huff, taking one look at the situation and turning crimson-cheeked on the spot. "What in the blazes is going on here??" His loud, gruff voice was somewhat drowned out by the noise of the commotion. Nobody took notice of him and he dived into the mass, attempting to break up as many of the vicious scuffles as he could. This wasn't unusual for the inn, especially for a Friday night, and even Jed himself couldn't put a stop to the ongoing ruckus that overcame his beloved inn, intimidating as he was. He bee-lined for the small table at which I sat, alone and unconcerned and conveniently out of the way in the corner nearest to the wide stairs that lead up to the rooms above. He stomped up to me and slammed his large fists on the table, and I placed a hand over the drink beside me to steady it without bothering to look up. "A little help would be nice, your highness," he yelled, spit flying from his mouth as his beady eyes narrowed at me. I closed my book and looked up at him idly over the rickety high-backed chair on which I was currently resting my leather clad legs. "With?" I asked innocently, unable to completely suppress my smirk. A low growl rumbled from him as his stare intensified. "Oh alright, then," I sighed, reluctantly lowering my dark brown boots to the floor. My adoptive father always could be counted on to put a damper on my amusements. I stood up and was immediately forced to duck as an entire glass of whiskey shot over my head, smashing loudly against the wall behind me. Straightening up again I tugged the vest that covered my white loose-sleeved shirt and, sliding past Jed without looking at his red face, ran a hand through my hair to push back any loose strands.

Dodging stray fists and a few clumsily thrown projectiles I made my way over to the bar and passed my book to Victoria Clearwater. I gave her a roguish wink as she took it and a slight blush spread over her pale cheeks as she bent down to place it with the other assortment of items I knew she had stashed away from harm under the counter. Pausing for a moment I took a few seconds to admire her long black hair as it shone becomingly in the harsh light of a bare bulb hanging overhead.